


The match that lit you on fire

by ScQ



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Some blood/violence, Vampire Octavia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:48:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27248296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScQ/pseuds/ScQ
Summary: A bloodthirsty Octavia Blake is out looking for her next meal. And Echo is looking for someone, too.
Relationships: Octavia Blake/Echo
Comments: 12
Kudos: 12





	The match that lit you on fire

The music in this nightclub was loud. Too loud, for most people; the type of loud that shook your bones and fucked with your heartbeat. For Octavia, it was just right. She liked the way it made her ears ring, her skin prickle, the way it made her feel something. The way she couldn’t ignore it. She liked that she couldn’t hear her own voice unless she was screaming. 

Octavia weaved and pushed her way through the crowd until she was at the center of it, then she started to sway to the beat, tipping her head back so that the colored strobe lights could blind her. She closed her eyes and let the music move her, let it take control of her. Octavia loved this place. So many people, so many bodies, and yet, no one was watching her. Not really. For the most part, everyone was doing the same thing she was: moving to the rhythm, moving with the crowd, trying to lose themselves.

Except, tonight, someone _was_ watching her. Octavia could feel it. She blinked, hazy, and scanned the clubbers until her vision was clear enough to spot a pair of bright brown eyes on her. This stranger was staring, and Octavia stared back, curious. The woman looked _good_. Her thick brown hair was loose and tossed to one side, and she was dressed in ripped jeans and a form-fitting green button up. 

If Octavia wasn’t hungry before... she was now. 

Gradually, letting the crowd move her, Octavia made her way closer. They started to dance together, moving to the music and watching each other. Not touching, not yet. This stranger, her eyes traveled down the length of Octavia’s body as if sizing her up. Interested but reserved. Octavia’s gaze flickered from her eyes to her lips before lingering on her neck. She swallowed, her tongue pressed against one of her fangs. This woman’s skin looked soft, smooth, delicious -- but this place was way too public for feeding. She regained composure and looked up, back into those brown eyes. She smiled. 

“I’m Octavia,” she shouted. 

“Echo,” was the response. If she heard her correctly over the music, that is. 

Octavia moved in closer. She could feel Echo’s breath on her face. She moved closer. Ran a hand up Echo’s arm. She could feel the blood moving underneath her warm ivory skin. Echo seemed into it: she grinned and kept dancing, her hair bouncing and her eyes still locked with Octavia’s.

“You wanna get out of here?” Octavia asked. 

“I’m all yours,” Echo’s lips seemed to be saying, but her voice was drowned out by the music. Octavia raised her eyebrows and held out her hand. When Echo took it, she led her through the crowd and towards the exit. Once outside, they were greeted by the crisp, comfortably cool air of an October in Roanoke, Virginia. 

Octavia glanced back at Echo, who looked like she was quietly relieved at the sudden drop in noise and temperature. O had already guessed that a hot, sweaty, busy nightclub wasn’t this woman’s favorite setting. She had this theory that at least half the people at any given club were only pretending they liked clubbing.

They let go of each other and walked across the street to Octavia’s black sedan, where the music blaring out of the club was just a bass beat, pulsing in the background. “This one’s mine,” she said, nodding at the car. Echo walked around to the passenger’s side, but instead of unlocking the car, Octavia followed her to the other side of the car. 

“Hey,” she said, gripping Echo’s forearm just long enough to catch her attention and get her to turn around and face her. When she did, Octavia’s gaze traveled from the other woman’s eyes down to her lips. With a wolfish smile, she closed the distance between them and stretched up to kiss Echo. Echo, being the taller of the two, had to dip her head a bit for her to reach, and she did so without hesitation. So Octavia _had_ been reading the signals right, then. Good. 

Echo was a great kisser -- open-mouthed and soft-lipped -- and for a brief moment Octavia thought she’d like to go on kissing her forever. Echo’s back pressed against the car door as Octavia took another step forward. Her hands traveled behind Octavia’s head, threading through her hair.

Struck by a sudden impulse, Octavia caught Echo’s lower lip in her teeth and bit down just hard enough for one of her fangs to pierce it. Just hard enough to draw blood. 

Echo winced but didn’t pull back from her. Instead, she stilled against Octavia and held her breath.

“Sorry,” said Octavia, but there was nothing truly apologetic in her tone, and the bite definitely hadn’t been an accident. No, it was more of a sample: before Octavia went to all the work of taking her out of the city, draining her, cleaning up the mess afterwards… Octavia wanted to make sure Echo’s blood was worth it. 

Echo seemed to accept the apology though, because she pressed her lips against Octavia’s again as if nothing had happened. A spot of blood passed from the tiny wound into Octavia’s mouth, and she couldn’t help but moan as she tasted it. Octavia wasn’t very picky when it came to blood, but Echo’s blood definitely met the mark. It tasted sweet as it passed over her taste buds, and left a tang on her tongue afterwards. Her mouth watered. 

Another pang of hunger hit Octavia and her actions got harsher -- her kisses became more demanding and her hands started exploring more of Echo’s body. She had to stifle herself somewhat -- she didn’t want to scare Echo off -- but she got the feeling Echo didn’t mind a little roughness. 

Octavia’s hands lingered on Echo’s waist, before slowly making their way under her shirt. She noted how firm the muscles of her abdomen were as the palms of her hands trailed up them. Her focus was now solely on the woman in front of her, but Echo seemed increasingly distracted by the people passing them on the sidewalk and the cars on the street. 

“Don’t you want to go some place,” Echo muttered against Octavia’s lips, “a little more private?”

“Yeah,” Octavia said, brushing her nose against Echo’s before pulling away. She flashed her a cocky smile, and received a very small, blink-and-you-miss-it smile in return. “Just wanted to make sure you were into me first.”

\--------

Octavia drove them out of downtown Roanoke, south towards the more desolate town of Cave Spring. It was only a ten minute drive to her current home, but she took the long way, making a few unnecessary turns and eventually arriving at a dark, unmarked house. It was quiet here, with nothing but trees and road in every direction. She parked the car in the driveway and shut off the engine. 

Echo looked out the window and up at the unlit house on the hill. The house itself was relatively modest in size -- one story plus a rooftop garden and a surprisingly spacious basement -- but Octavia understood Echo’s surprise. It was unusual for anyone in their twenties to own any house, let alone one with acres of private property surrounding it. 

“You live here?” she asked, her clear brown eyes still on the house. “Alone?”

“For now,” answered Octavia. “It’s not my house -- it belongs to my friend Niylah, but she’s never here.” 

Niylah was one of the few who knew Octavia was a vampire, and she let her stay in this house so she could be away from people, away from temptation. It was a thoughtful gesture, but it didn’t make Octavia’s hunger go away. Hence why she’d drive out into the city every once in a while and pick someone up. 

“Where is she?” said Echo. 

Octavia shrugged. “I dunno. Germany, I think. Seems like she’s always somewhere new, and thousands of miles from here. She likes to travel.” She glanced at Echo, remembering she should make some sort of an effort at a normal conversation. Act like she’s interested. “You like to travel?” 

“Sure,” Echo said, nodding nonchalantly. “Who doesn’t?” 

“I don’t,” said Octavia, turning off the car. She used to tag along with Niylah -- they went backpacking in Thailand together, and India, and in Europe, but it never did anything for her that she couldn’t get back home in Virginia. Niylah said she needed to appreciate other places more, but as a woman who _felt_ as dead inside as she technically was, Octavia reserved the right to not appreciate anything apart from her next meal. 

Octavia leaned into Echo, kissing her softly. Her tongue traced over the bite she had made on Echo’s lower lip earlier. The blood had already dried, but the taste still made her mouth water and her eyes darken. She sucked in a breath and forced herself to pause. Octavia had made the mistake of feeding in her car before, and it had taken months for her to scrub all the blood out of the cracks in the car seat afterwards. So she pulled away. 

“Come on,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind Echo’s ear. Her fingertips traced the line of Echo’s chin before her hand dropped to the safety brake, pulling it up. “Let’s head inside.”

Echo got out of the car first, her boots silent on the pavement. Octavia’s hunger was growing stronger by the minute, but she had to get her inside the house first. She had a whole system set up in there for easy, clean meals.

She was starting to make her way up the driveway when out of the corner of her eye, she saw Echo bend down and take something out of her boot. Echo was holding it down by her side, where Octavia couldn’t see what it was. Before she had time to be too suspicious, Echo was coming at her fast, wielding whatever it was she had taken out of her boot and lunging at her with a guttural yell. 

Octavia dodged on instinct, and grabbed Echo’s arm to stop the object in her hand -- a wooden stake -- from impaling her. The night had certainly taken a turn she wasn’t expecting, but there wasn’t any time for Octavia to be surprised. Grunting with effort, Octavia pushed Echo’s arm away and kicked her in the stomach. This bought her a moment as Echo stumbled backwards. 

“And here I thought we were getting along,” Octavia commented drily on an exhale. 

Echo said nothing in response, only snarled and attacked her again. This time she used her free hand to take a swing at Octavia’s head, and when Octavia ducked she rammed into her with her shoulder and tackled her to the ground. This definitely wasn’t Echo’s first fight, but it wasn’t Octavia’s, either. Before she hit the ground, Octavia knocked the stake from Echo’s grip and it fell to the ground beside them. 

Echo landed on top of her, using her legs to straddle Octavia and keep her pinned. She reached for the stake but Octavia got there first, using one hand to grab the stake and the other to catch Echo’s wrist. 

Acting fast, she shoved the sharp end into her opponent’s thigh. Echo screamed in pain, her hold on Octavia loosening enough for the vampire to shake her off and scramble to her feet. Octavia’s chest heaved as she recovered her breath. She reached down and pulled the stake free, inciting another strained cry from Echo. The blood pouring from Echo’s injured leg was extremely difficult for Octavia to ignore, but she held back from her animalistic urges for now. She tossed the wooden spear away and watched as Echo’s eyes followed it. The hunter’s face was impressively stoic considering the pain she was in, her features setting as she focused on the weapon that had clattered to the ground a little ways away. 

Echo flipped herself over with a forceful grunt. She crawled on her forearms, dragging herself towards the stake that now lay just beyond her reach. A desperate attempt to turn the tides of this fight, but it was already over. Octavia stood over her, walking a step for every few inches that Echo managed to scoot herself forward. She waited until Echo was reaching out her hand, grasping for the stake, before she knelt down and curled her fingers into the hunter’s soft, thick hair, pulling her head back harshly. 

“Your fight is over, Echo,” she murmured against her ear. Baring her fangs, Octavia sunk into Echo’s delicate neck and sucked her blood. She gave a muffled moan as the blood passed her tongue -- it was warm and sweet, and it had been far too long since she’d had a proper meal like this. As she drank, she felt Echo’s strength draining and it wasn’t long before Echo stopped struggling all together. Octavia paused, sinking back on her heels. 

She wiped blood off her chin and sighed. The bite mark on Echo’s neck was deep, and it was still oozing scarlet down her back, her chest and on her clothes. She pressed one hand down on the wound before she began dragging the unconscious Echo towards the house. 

\---

It took Echo nearly an hour to regain consciousness. In the meantime, Octavia had carried her inside the house and down into the basement, tied her wrists to a chair with rope, and stopped the bleeding in her neck and her leg. 

The basement was almost completely empty, besides the ratty old chair Echo was tied to, a couple of spare folding chairs scattered around, and a plastic folding table that was folded up in the corner. The cement floor beneath them was lined with plastic, a step that Octavia had completed before she even drove into the city… she had learned the hard way that this made for a much easier clean-up. 

“I’m still alive?” Echo said, her voice hoarse. As she woke, she began testing her restraints, her arms pushing against the ropes that held her to the chair. 

“I wanted to talk to you before I finish you off,” said Octavia. She twisted the cap off a bottle of water and held the opening to Echo’s lips. “Here. Drink.” Echo hesitated a moment before complying, tilting her head back and gulping down the entire bottle. Octavia dropped the empty bottle on the floor and Echo glanced away. 

“I don’t want to talk,” she said. 

“You’d rather I just kill you?” asked Octavia rhetorically. 

Echo looked up. The expression in her eyes seemed almost sad, like she had already accepted her fate. “You’re going to anyway, aren’t you?” 

Octavia had expected more hatred from her. Defiance. Resistance. Perhaps Echo was smart enough to see the pointlessness in all of that. 

She leaned down so she was at eye level with Echo, strains of her black hair falling over her shoulders. “Who hired you?”

Echo paused and her expression became harder to read. "No one," she said. 

Octavia sighed, standing upright again and crossing her arms. "There aren't any vampire hunters in Roanoke. These people don't even believe in _ghosts_. So what brought you here?" 

Echo swallowed, her head dropping momentarily from the exhaustion she was fighting. Then, suddenly, she was glaring right back up at Octavia again. "A kid whose mom you killed," she said, unblinking. Octavia's stomach dropped. She tried to keep her face neutral, but she knew Echo had seen her eyes widen, her breath catch. After a moment, Echo continued, "I got an email from a fourteen-year-old child because her mother went out one night and never came home. Until they found her body face-down in a river with her throat torn open." 

Octavia's eyes were sharp and stoney, her features etched with a skin-deep anger. "How do you know it was me?" she asked. 

Echo glanced from her eyes to her lips. She shrugged. "I guess I don't. But I've been watching you all night, and I know you're a vampire. Maybe you didn't kill that kid's mother, but you've killed people like her. And you won't stop." 

"And what about you?" growled Octavia. "You don't know me, Echo, but that didn't stop you from trying to kill me." 

"You brought me here to kill _me_ ," she retorted, furrowing her brow. 

“I brought you here to feed; yes. But the difference between you and me is, I didn’t choose to be a monster,” Octavia said, her lip curling as she spoke. “But you chose to be a killer.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Echo said in a low voice.

“Oh, I don’t, do I?” Octavia scoffed. She pulled a chair forward and straddled it, tilting her head with a flippant attitude. An invitation for Echo to continue. 

“You made a choice the first time you killed someone and drank their blood,” she said. “And the second time. And the third…” Echo raised her eyebrows facetiously. “And so on.” 

Octavia bristled, her eyes narrowing. “It’s the only way I survive,” she snapped back.

“Exactly. And that’s a choice,” Echo said steadily. Octavia furrowed her brow, her eyes angry, but she said nothing. “So if you think you have some kind of moral high ground over me, Octavia, you don’t.” Despite her words, Echo’s tone didn’t sound judgmental or accusing at all. Like she was only stating a fact. Actually, she sounded like she understood completely. The compulsion to survive.

And that understanding in Echo’s voice took her aback. 

Octavia’s recklessness had attracted many vampire hunters in her time. They all killed vampires in the name of religion, revenge, or heroism, and they were always so disgusted by her. But not Echo. That realization came to Octavia suddenly: there was nothing about her -- her behavior or her voice -- that suggested contempt for Octavia. So either she was hiding her true feelings well, or she _didn’t_ completely detest Octavia for merely existing. Either way, this was a first. 

Echo swallowed thickly and glanced off as Octavia continued staring at her through unreadable eyes. “But it doesn’t matter,” she said. 

Octavia lifted her head, pulling herself out of her thoughts. “No, it doesn’t,” she agreed.

“So get it over with, then,” whispered Echo. There were tears in her eyes, but she held herself bravely. "Kill me." 

“Now, why would you say that?” Octavia frowned, looking at her quizzically. “Don’t you _want_ to stall me for a little while longer? Give your friends more time to bust through a window or something and rescue you?” 

The corner of Echo’s mouth turned upwards, just a little and only for a moment, into a tight, sad smile. “No one’s coming,” she said as her expression zeroed out again. “I work alone.” 

Octavia gave a short, humorless laugh. “You expect me to believe that?” 

“I don’t care what you believe,” said Echo. 

Octavia met Echo's gaze and crouched down in front of her, some searching emotion in her eyes. With a strange sort of tenderness, she reached out and tucked strains of Echo's disheveled hair behind her ears. She looked down at her lips, remembering how sweet it had tasted when she kissed her, so different from the bitter taste in her mouth now. Her expression went cold again. 

“Then I guess we’re done here,” she said.

Echo lifted her chin, preparing to die with dignity. Octavia dug through her purse until she found a syringe filled with a clear liquid; then she opened the cap. 

"What's that?" asked Echo, clearly confused by this. Octavia jabbed it into her arm without another word and Echo winced, drifting off almost immediately. 

\-------

This time, Echo woke to a cold breeze and the scent of pine trees. She sat up quickly and immediately regretted it -- her head was pounding and she felt like she was going to pass out again. She glanced around. Octavia had dumped her in the forest somewhere, and there was no sign of her. She was near a highway, though: she could hear cars speeding past from nearby. 

Her hand settled on what felt like shattered glass. Echo looked down to see her phone smashed to pieces and completely useless. The wooden stake she'd brought lay beside it, with a note taped to it in messy handwriting: 

Not that it’s any of your business, but I don’t kill _everyone_ I drink from.

\- O

Echo pressed a hand to her forehead. She leaned against the side of a tree and used it as leverage to push herself onto her feet. Her leg was throbbing. She had lost a lot of blood; she was tired and dehydrated. She couldn't quite wrap her head around what had happened or why Octavia had spared her life, but for now, she needed to focus on getting home. There would be plenty of time to think about Octavia Blake in the morning. 


End file.
